


Worry

by Spannah339



Series: Mama May [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Infinity War, Gen, Infinity War spoilers, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sadness, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 07:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14563674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spannah339/pseuds/Spannah339
Summary: May was used to worry. She worried whenever her nephew was out of the house. Seeing a spaceship in the sky near where his school trip was taking place only heightened that worry.





	Worry

**Author's Note:**

> So everyone is focused on Tony and what his reaction to seeing Peter's death is - but what about May?

She started to worry the moment she turned the tv on. Well, no, that wasn’t true. She was always worrying; from the moment her nephew left the house to the moment he was back safe, she worried. Turning the tv on to see a spaceship in the air near where Peter was having his school trip only heightened that worry.

Worry was part of her job, it was part of raising a teenaged boy. And for May Parker,  the guardian of a teenager with superpowers, that worry was increased greatly.

She stared at the tv for a long time, watching the news reporter’s lips move, telling herself Peter wasn’t part of that. He wouldn’t leave the class. He would stay safe.

She called Ned. When Peter hadn’t come straight home after school, she had only  worried a little – he often went to Ned’s house after school anyway. But now with a spaceship in the sky, she had to know.

“Hey May,” Ned said. “Did you see the spaceship?”

“Is Peter there?” She couldn’t help but hope, gripping the phone to her ear as she  stared at the television.

“He hasn’t come home yet?”

“Ned. Tell me what happened.” She started pacing, the worry growing stronger.

“He… uh… climbed out the window?”

She had to sit. He climbed out the window. Of course he had.

Was he alright?

“It was so cool though! I didn’t see much, but there was a spaceship and I’m sure I  saw Ironman – Ironman! He was like “pow!” and then…” Ned trailed off, sensing May’s worrying. “Peter’ll be fine – I mean, he’s with Tony Stark! He’ll be home soon – make sure he calls me when he does, okay? I wanna hear everything! I gotta go.” And the line went dead.

May stared at the tv, still reporting the ship over the air. Peter was with Tony Stark. Ned was right – as arrogant and self-righteous as Stark was, she had seen him around her nephew. He loved Peter – he wouldn’t let him get hurt.

As the news of Tony Stark’s disappearance appeared on the screen she held onto t hat knowledge – held on tight. Peter would be okay – he  _ had _ to be okay.

She knew she wouldn’t sleep that night, so she didn’t even try. As the night wore on there was still no sign of Peter, no updates on what was happening, nothing. She was reminded of another night, not that long ago. Another night when she waited. Another night when she stayed up hoping for a loved one to come home.

A loved one who never returned.

Peter had come home late that night, stumbling into the flat, eyes red and tears still wet on his cheeks. They sat together all night, crying, comforting. Peter apologising (what for, May didn’t know. It wasn’t his fault his uncle had been killed.)

But this time, she wasn’t sure anyone would stumble through that door. She waited  alone as the sun vanished and the moon appeared in the sky. She waited alone, hoping, praying, wishing her boy would come through that door – would call – anything.

She waited alone on the last day before the world fell to pieces.

Morning’s rosy fingers brought news of aliens in Africa – of the Avengers meeting in  Wakanda. Something big was happening – something world changing. And May knew her Peter was in the middle of it.

She wasn’t sure even Tony Stark could keep him safe anymore.

And then – and then the world came crashing down in a rain of ash, the universe  seemed to fall out of line in the snap of a finger, the worry and fear in May’s heart grew stronger.

It started silently, then suddenly – the screech and bang of a car smashing into another, the shouts and cries of people, the wail of sirens in the distance.

May moved to the window, woken from a half doze by the noise outside. She looked out to see chaos; a car, soldering where it had crashed into a wall, people rushing about in a crazed madness.

It didn’t take long to learn what had happened. People, disappearing in a puff of ash. Gone without a trace. Vanished.

The morning only brought more uncertainty and worry, not the hope and clarity she  had been wishing for.

May didn’t even bother going to work that day. She spent the morning ringing around her friends and family, making sure they were alright. (Many of them weren’t. Many of them were gone.) Then she spent the afternoon helping the clean-up, helping to try and put all the pieces back together, helping.

Doing something because doing nothing was a bad idea at the moment. Doing nothing  meant sitting alone, waiting, fearing, worrying.

That day turned to night and the night to day again and then the days to a week. What was left of the Avengers spoke to the people of the world, trying to encourage those left behind. (No one cared Captain America was a fugitive – he was still an American hero, the person every child looked up to when they were young. Seeing him alive and hearing his encouragements gave them hope.) But still, there was no news on her nephew. Still, she didn’t know what had happened to him. If he was alive. If he would ever come home.

She was beginning to lose hope of ever knowing what had happened to him.

Then a ship was spotted in the sky. Then people began muttering that Tony Stark was back. Then Ironman was seen leaving Africa. And the hope returned. If Tony Stark was back from space then surely her nephew would be safe as well.

Surely.

She waited. She busied herself with helping those who needed it, with getting through each day, with locating her friends and learning who she had lost. She waited – and soon she was finally rewarded.

A knock on the door made her heart leap. Was it him? Was he home? Was he safe?

She stood from where she had been watching the tv, moving slowly and carefully to the door, so afraid that it wouldn’t be him. So scared that she would look out and learn he was gone. Gone like his parents. Gone like his uncle.

She opened the door, expecting to see her Peter. Tired, maybe wounded, maybe hurt –  but he would be alive. He would be safe.

The world seemed to freeze for a moment as she pulled the door open. Her heart  stopped and she couldn’t move, could only focus on the face on the man in front of her.

The man who wasn’t Peter.

Tony Stark himself stood at her door, fresh cuts covering his face, his usually neat hair ragged and untamed, his eyes filled with a deep pain. Tony Stark himself stood at her door - and he stood there alone.

There was a long moment of silence, neither of them knowing what to say. May stood there, her hand on the door, the implications of his visit not sinking in. Then she covered her face with her hands, fighting back a sob.

Tony Stark had come here – alone. Tony Stark had come for a personal visit, despite how busy he must be with the world ending. Tony Stark was at her door without her nephew. There was only one explanation.

Peter was gone.

She fought the urge to shout and rage at Stark, to slam the door in his face, to curl in her bed and weep. She had to know what had happened. She had to know how it had happened. 

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t – I let him down,” Stark spoke, his voice heavy.

“What happened?” And suddenly her legs couldn’t support her and she stumbled into the room, collapsing onto the sofa. When she looked up, Stark was sitting across from her. She just stared at him, unable to speak any more than she had already.

He spoke instead. With a slow, halting voice he told her what had happened. He told her how Peter had saved his life, how he had been so brave, how he had postponed the end of the world – nearly stopped it. He told her how Peter has smuggled himself aboard a spaceship, how he had helped to come up with a plan that had nearly saved the day, how he had handled himself like a hero – how he  _ had been _ a hero.

He told her how it had all been in vain.

“We lost.” The guilt on his face was so clear, so obvious. “Thanos got the stone. He won. And then.” He lowered his gaze, unable to speak. When he looked up again, May could see the tears shimmering in his eyes. “He just… turned to dust right… right in my arms. I couldn’t… couldn’t do anything.”

And suddenly, May didn’t see him as an arrogant, self-centred man. She didn’t see him as the man who cared only for himself. She didn’t see him as the billionaire who had built his wealth on the backs of those less well off than him.

She saw him as a man. A man who was hurting. A man who had lost so much. And the anger that had been burning since he had knocked on her door faded. He felt Peter’s loss as keenly as she did.

 She didn’t say anything when he finished talking. She just sat, her knees curled around her, a pillow clutched in her arms. Finally, he stood.

“I should go,” he said quietly. She nodded, still unable to speak. Peter was gone. Her boy was gone.

 Stark paused at the door, looking back into the apartment with a long, sad look, his gaze lingering on the door to Peter’s room. He finally sighed and turned to leave.

“Thank you,” May said suddenly, grateful that he had come in person. Grateful that he had told her exactly what had happened. He turned back.

“I’m sorry. I should have done more.” Again, May could clearly see the guilt and grief he was carrying. She wondered how much was new, and how much he had been shouldering for much longer than the past week.

“You did all you could. So thank you. If it hadn’t been for you, he would have… he would have been hurt a lot sooner.” Even as she spoke, she realised how true that was. If it hadn’t been for Stark, giving Peter the equipment and the mentoring he needed to stay safe, the boy would have gone too deep, would have got into serious trouble. Stark had probably saved his life more times than she knew – than any of them knew.

“It still wasn’t enough,” he said softly, almost too softly for her to hear. Then he was gone, closing the door with a loud click behind him.

May pulled the pillow close, hugging it tightly as his story sunk in. Finally alone, the tears started pricking at her eyes, the grief in her heart became too much to handle.

Her boy, her Peter was gone. Gone forever, gone. Gone like his parents; May’s close friends. Gone like his uncle; May’s beloved husband. Now he was gone. And he was never coming back.

She didn’t have anything to worry about now, no one to wait up for, wondering when he would come home. But she would give anything to have her worry return and to have it rewarded with her nephew alive and well.

_ “Why don’t I called you Mom?” Peter asked, curled up against her as she nursed him through a sickness. She smiled down at the seven-year-old. _

"B _ecause I’m not your Mom, Peter,” she said quietly._

_ “I know. You’re my aunty. But you look after me when I’m sick and help me with my homework and make food for me and take care of me and buy stuff for me. That’s what a Mom does.” He yawned, closing his eyes and muttering the last words through sleep. “So you basically are my Mom.” _

_ She ruffled his hair, a small smile covering her face. _

_ "And you, Peter,” she whispered to the sleeping boy, “are basically my son.” _

  
  



End file.
